


in the still of your hands

by soracia



Series: Everything [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Touching, grantaire needs all the hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2465495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soracia/pseuds/soracia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Enjolras never could understand how a human being existed that could so infuriate and so endear him at the same time, so fascinate him that he felt bewitched, almost. Drawn so strongly and so fiercely in that he could not help but reach out, needing to touch as much or more as Grantaire seemed to need him to do it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the still of your hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maharlika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/gifts).



> Quick chatfic written for my lovely flutterings, who requested hugs for Grantaire and cuddling as a bedtime story. Happens to be set in the Everything verse, not too long before the beginning of AIN; a few months to a year, maybe? Not the major backstory, just a little sidefic. 
> 
> Can be read as standalone, a random little bit of shameless fluff at a peaceful moment on their timeline, after they've been together for a long time and worked out most of their issues.

_All that I'm asking for  Is that you need nothing more_  
 _And nothing comes in between  Our love and it's fragile, see_  
 _All that I'm asking for - You're all that I'm asking for_

_In the still of your hands, Anything can happen now_  
 _With every beat of my heart, Love speaks in silence_  
 _In the still of your hands, Anything is possible_  
 _With every beat of my heart_  


 _\-- Lifehouse - All That I'm Asking For_

* * *

Enjolras has never been a touchy feely kind of person. There is always something that needs doing, something that needs his attention, and just sitting and touching or being with someone quietly makes him antsy. Or it used to, anyway. He can't remember when that changed, but something did.

Something caught him, somewhere in the time when he and Grantaire were figuring out that they weren't just fighting, there was something underneath, some tension that wasn't just anger, and maybe they were flirting of sorts. And maybe it wouldn't have worked for anyone else but it worked for them, and somewhere in the process of learning how to want and need and be with each other without fighting, or rather with less of it when it really mattered, something had changed.

Enjolras didn't even notice it at first, the way he would let his hands linger on Grantaire's hand or his arm when he was talking to him, even if they were arguing, the way he would brush against him in passing when they were moving around the house, the way they would stay close enough their shoulders were touching when they walked somewhere, despite any spirited debates.

Grantaire never said anything either, but gradually Enjolras noticed that Grantaire would lean into him, would seek out those touches without ever asking for them directly, and sometimes his eyes would flutter closed for a brief minute, or a tiny, secret smile would tip the corner of his mouth, just for a second, and somehow the sight of it curled sharply inside him, made Enjolras want desperately to kiss it off his face before it disappeared.

So Enjolras let his touches grow more frequent and more varied, both firm and demanding, soft and assured, often possessive, sometimes just...reassuring maybe, by the looks he got in return, as if Grantaire still couldn't quite believe that Enjolras was with him, wanting to touch him. Enjolras just went on experimenting with it, seeing what kind of reactions he could get, and all of them were so endearing somehow, filled him with so much warmth and want for this one, specific person to be _his_ , for always, that it made his chest hurt and his breath ache in his lungs.

He never could understand how a human being existed that could so infuriate and so endear him at the same time, so fascinate him that he felt bewitched, almost. Drawn so strongly and so fiercely in that he could not help but reach out, needing to touch as much or more as Grantaire seemed to need him to do it.

So when there were quiet times, when they were at home together busy with their individual things, Grantaire reading or sketching maybe, Enjolras usually working on his laptop, with perhaps the tv on whether or not they were paying attention to it, they would sit close on the couch instead of in separate chairs, letting thighs or shoulders brush, just maintaining contact.

Enjolras made sure he always sat near enough and at the right angle that Grantaire could lean against him and rest his head on his shoulder, if he wanted, because he often put down whatever he was doing long before Enjolras was finished, and sometimes he would go to sleep there, resting against Enjolras while he worked on his laptop, and Enjolras would have to stop, and just breathe, and find Grantaire's hand to tangle their fingers together, squeezing tight for a long few minutes before he could focus again.

Because that warm, trusting weight against his shoulder made him ache clear through, made him feel so many things that he thought he might burst with them, and he loved Grantaire so much that it _hurt_ right then.

And when he eventually closed what he was working on and put it away - he wasn't finished, no, and longer ago he'd have kept right on, but he couldn't bring himself to keep Grantaire from his bed all night, so finally he would put it away, and rouse Grantaire who would blink sleepily up at him until Enjolras just _had_ to kiss him, softly, smiling faintly to himself as he pulled Grantaire up and into his arms, hugging him tight for a few long minutes before they moved.

Because this, right here, _this_ was the most important thing in his world, and all the work, all the duty, all the urgent things that clamored for his attention were just going to have to wait, just for a few hours.

Right now, he needed to hold onto his lover, kiss him and half carry him, stumbling with sleep, into their room and their bed - undressing him with patient, careful hands, then himself. Needed to slide into bed beside him, pulling him in close and hanging on, keeping him settled warmly against his chest.

He needed to kiss the dark curls that lay there so softly, and the sleepy smile that tilted up to look at him, thanking him in the dark for getting him ready for bed when Grantaire was too half asleep to bother with it himself.

And he needed to run his hands, warm and reverent over all that lovely skin, stroking assurances into every line of bone and muscle, speaking silent promises, slowly lulling him back to sleep, because Grantaire always slept best right here, in the circle of his arms, sleeping against his chest where Enjolras held him so securely, and Enjolras would never think of not giving that to him in a million years.

He didn't really understand how he'd gotten here, from where he'd used to be, but it didn't matter. Grantaire needed him here, right now, like this, and for right now, there was nowhere else he wanted to be. In truth, there was never anywhere else he'd rather be, even if they couldn't stay like this all the time. The truth was that if they could, he'd be perfectly happy to.

Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to be all that worried about how much he had changed - it made Grantaire happy, so it was clearly for the better. So Enjolras merely held him tighter and kissed his hair and stroked his strong back and arms with tender hands, and wondered at himself as the emotion swelled inside him. It was good. It was very good.


End file.
